Page 130 of My Spanish Love Affair

“I want to taste you,” he pants sounding somewhat pained. “Ineedto.”

I barely have the chance to process his heated statement when Santi dips his head to my chest and flicks his tongue over one of my nipples.

The sudden pleasurable sensation causes me to gasp in surprise, though my heart pounds relentlessly within my chest as he shimmies his way down my body.

It means that his cock is taken away from the place that I want him most, yet my thighs tremble with anticipation all the same.

Santi leaves behind a trail of wet kisses, darkened skin and nipped flesh from my breasts down to my pelvis; and I let out a long, loud moan as his hot breath fans over my exposed slit. His large hands snake around my waist, and he puts enough pressure on my body that when my hips instinctively buck upwards from his teasing, I can’t actually move anywhere.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, and I nod my head vigorously in confirmation, coherent thought evading me as he lets out another long breath - this time, directly over my swollen clit. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I answer, trying - and failing miserably - to writhe around beneath his strong grip.

He’s so close that I can’t help but try, for if he just eased his hold on my hips ever so slightly, then I’d be able to lift my ass into the air from the floor and finally connect his mouth with my dripping core.

Instead, Santi merely tuts as he nudges his nose against the inside of my thighs. A needy, frustrated whine escapes my throat at the realisation that he has moved his mouth away when he’d been so,soclose to where I need him.

“You don’t sound like you mean it, Olivia,” he says, his voice calm, his voice monotonous - almost as though he’sbored. It’s infuriating. “Why don’t we try that again: do you want me to taste you?”

My clit practically pulses in excitement.

“Yes, Santi,please,” I say “Oh, I want it - I want you to so, so badly; want to feel your tongue on me, need to have you now, I-”

I stop, then; the need to continue with my babbled pleas coming to an abrupt end as Santi obliges with my request.

I throw my head back against the floor as he uses the point of his tongue to lick over the entire length of my slit from bottom to top. His hands remain firmly on my hips to hold me easily in place as he repeats the motion over and over again, and I faintly hear the sound of him grumbling into my wet folds as I continue my attempts to buck against his mouth in search of more friction.

“Fuck, Olivia, stay still,” Santi says, and I let out a sharp breath as he sucks harshly on my clit to emphasise his words.

It’s instinctive, these attempts to move this way against him, but Santi wants me to keep still, and so I do my very best to fight the urge to buck my hips and shuffle my legs for as long and as hard as I possibly can. I try to distract myself instead,focusing on the feeling of warmth flooding through my thighs and down to my toes as his tongue swirls in small, tight circles over my sensitive, throbbing clit.

Even without the use of his fingers to penetrate me, I know that it won’t take long for Santi to pull me over the edge. He knows my body so well by now, and I squeeze my eyes tightly to a close as he works away at my wet core.

As much as I’m trying to keep the lower half of my body as still as possible to comply with his instructions, the rest of me is restless, and I’m desperate for something to ground me as he works me quickly up to a release, I need something to keep my body here on earth so that I don’t shatter into thin air; and so I snake my hands into his thick mop of dark hair and tug lightly on the strands, pulling his face tighter against my pussy.

He noses at my clit before sucking on it firmly in response to my movements, and I almost sob in relief as my orgasm pulses through me.

My chest heaves up and down dramatically while I ride out the waves of my release, and Santi removes his head from between my limp thighs and sits up on his knees before me. He releases his grip of my hips, and I watch through half-open lids as he lifts the backs of one of his hands up to his face and wipes away the remnants of my pleasure from his mouth and chin.

Fuck.

For half a beat, I think that Santi might have settled somewhat by having me come right against his mouth.

Yet, as I look up into his lust-blown green eyes, I can still make out that wild glint, and the thought of whatever it is that he’s going to do to me next has me biting down on my bottom lip.

His gaze follows the movement, and I listen to the sound of him heave out a long, low breath before he towers above me once more. He places his hands on either side of my headin order to support his weight and looks down at me for a moment.

For the first time in a long time, I see no softness in his gaze.

Still, there’s a part of me that knows that all I would need to do is summon him - nudge him away or shake my head or say no - and he’d return; my soft, gentle Santi, the man who loves me and cherishes me, the man who handles me with such care and tenderness.

But I don’t want that. Not right now. I want this part of him; I want the rough and the wild and the desperate, I want the unrivalled passion and the heated lust.

And more than anything, I want him to take me like this: spread out before him, pliant and willing, right here on the floor.

His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I wonder what he’s thinking. Whether he’ll break the silence, whether he’ll move at all.

And then he opens his mouth.

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